


Yours Still

by dustandroses



Series: Yours [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Character of Color, Collars, Dom/sub, Ficlet, M/M, Marking, Power Play, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 04:01:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1251973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustandroses/pseuds/dustandroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>John watched the play of muscles under the skin of Ronon’s back as he took off his jacket and threw it over the chair next to the bed they both knelt on.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yours Still

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** Ozsaur, my hero and shit  
>  **Notes:** This story was first posted on August 24, 2006.

John watched the play of muscles under the skin of Ronon’s back as he took off his jacket and threw it over the chair next to the bed they both knelt on. He grabbed the lube off the bedside table, flipped the cap and let the gel dribble into the cleft of Ronon's ass. John’s finger followed, circling his hole, teasing it slowly. The muscles in Ronon’s arms bunched and flexed, hands spreading wide against the wall, as if they were trying to get a grip on the slick surface.

Ronon arched his back, pushing his ass against John’s fingers, but John pulled his hand away. With a sharp slap to one butt cheek, he reminded Ronon of the standing rule: he’s allowed to make noise, but not allowed to move without permission. He could see Ronon struggling, muscles clenching in his effort not to respond to the slap.

John did it again, enjoying the sound his hand made as he struck the smooth skin of Ronon’s ass, overlapping the last strike – then three more, his hand tingling from the force of the contact. He knew this was nothing Ronon couldn’t take, his bare hand probably hurt just as much as Ronon’s ass did. It was the intent behind it that would hurt Ronon most. He hated to be reprimanded, and the fact that he clearly deserved it would make it even worse.

John waited for a moment, Ronon’s whole body tensing in anticipation of the last strike. They always come in sixes, and John knew that sometimes the wait was worse than the actual punishment. When it came, the strike was hard, John’s palm and fingers numbed slightly with the force of the blow. Ronon grunted softly as it landed, but John felt certain it was as much the release of suspense as actual pain. 

“Relax,” John murmured as his warm palm caressed Ronon’s heated skin. “It’s over now.” Slowly, Ronon’s body relaxed until with a sigh he let the last of the stress ease out of his muscles, his head hanging loose between his arms. 

“That’s better.” John ran one hand up and down Ronon's spine, and smiled when Ronon took a deep breath as he trailed his fingers, slick with lube, across his tender ass cheek. He slipped two fingers into the cleft of Ronon's ass, pushing until they breached his hole. Ronon let out his breath, obviously relaxing, letting John’s fingers slide in up to the third knuckle. 

“That’s right. Give it to me. Give me everything.” John’s fingers were rough inside Ronon. Stretching him out, pushing in and out with force. He knew what Ronon wanted – the same thing John wanted. Hard and fast.

He pushed a third finger in, spreading them wide, working him open. Then John crooked his fingers and let them run over Ronon’s prostate, dragging a moan out of him. John nodded as he watched Ronon struggle to not move, to not demand more, or even worse – to beg.

John prepared himself quickly, the condom wrapper falling to the floor, the lube dropping to the bed, beside his knee. John didn’t use much when they were revved up like this – they didn’t need it. They both liked the roughness, the drag of flesh and condom creating even more heat than John’s hand could make. John didn’t stop to warn Ronon, just plunged into his body as he whispered roughly into Ronon’s ear.

“Move.”

The release was instantaneous. Muscles flexing, Ronon pushed back against John, taking his cock deep, making them both gasp. John rested his chest briefly against Ronon’s back, holding himself still. The buttons on his dress shirt rubbed roughly against Ronon’s skin with John’s breathing and the zipper of his undone trousers caught at the back of Ronon’s thighs, a reminder that John was still wearing most of the uniform Ronon had been admiring him in all evening. 

John pushed aside Ronon’s dreads, biting his neck as he skimmed his fingers around the edge of Ronon’s collar. Ronon’s head fell to the side, giving John more room to play. John’s fingertips slipped under the collar and ran along the curve of Ronon’s neck caressing sweat-moist flesh and smooth leather. He grazed his teeth across the marks he’d left, then sucked hard on the flesh.

“Mine,” John reminded Ronon fiercely as he began to move inside him. “Don’t forget that.”

“No,” Ronon shook his head. “I won’t forget.”


End file.
